If I Tell

excellent running form, but you look kind of dorky,” he called.
    I stopped dead in my tracks, forcing Jackson to slam on his brakes to keep from hitting me.
    “Don’t you dare tell me I look dorky,” I yelled, panting and grabbing my side. Stupid stitch.
    He shifted his car into park.
    “Well, you kind of do,” he pointed out.
    His stereo played faintly inside the car. I heard a muffled Green Day song. Figured. White-guy music.
    “Well, at least I look like one. I am a dork. Look at you in your white-guy car, listening to white-guy music. Dating a blond with boobs. You’re a total faker.” My hand dug into my side, trying to stifle the cramp. My eyes got teary, and that made me even madder.
    Jackson opened his car door and stepped outside. “A faker?”
    “No,” I yelled at his face. “I don’t want to hear crap about accepting myself for who I am. You have the option of blending in. I don’t.”
    “No one’s asking you to,” he said.
    “Don’t patronize me,” I snarled. He took a step toward me, but I backed away.
    “What do you want from me, Jackson? A close-up view of what it’s like to look black and live in the white world? Well, too bad. I’m not going to give it to you. You’re on your own.”
    He leaned against his car door, his arms crossed. “I want to be your friend. I like you. You’re not making it easy to get to know you, but…”
    “But what?” I interrupted before he embarrassed me further. “I screwed it up and thought it was more and threw myself at you? So you had to haul out your girlfriend to show me how stupid I was? Well, guess what? You’re right. I am stupid. But everyone makes mistakes, and that was the biggest mistake I ever made. Kissing you.”
    I shook my head, my humiliation and his pity making me furious. Pain and anger I’d been holding in forever rose to the surface. I was humiliated and tired of it. Tired of people pushing me down. Letting me slide under while they just watched. I was tired of holding it all in. Pretending nothing bothered me.
    And at that moment, I wanted to make him hurt as much as I did. So I went for blood. “You know what’s sad, Jackson? I once promised my grandpa I’d stay away from people like you. Druggies.” I spit the word out like it was dirt muddying my tongue. Like he was beneath me in any real or imagined social ranking.
    “I’ve heard you on your phone. Setting up pickup times, arranging things, trying to hide it from me. I know you’re still dealing drugs.”
    He opened his mouth, but I raised my hand to silence him.
    “My grandpa would have hated you. He wouldn’t have wanted us to be friends. And you know what? He would have been right. I’m sorry I’m a dork and that I kissed you. Let’s just forget it ever happened. The funny thing is not only should I never have done that, but I shouldn’t even be friends with someone like you. You’re probably the only person I’ve ever met who isn’t even good enough for me.” Jackson took a step back.
    In the back of my mind, the ugliness of my words horrified me, but suppressed anger spewed out of me, propelling the poison onward. “Go back to your white-ass girlfriend and deal your drugs and leave me alone. I don’t need you hanging around me to try to see what it’s like to actually look black. You don’t deserve to claim that part of your heritage. At least I’m not trying to pass myself off as something I’m not. You’re not white, but you’re not black either. You’re not anything.”
    Jackson’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t say a word. He pushed off the door of his car. He hopped inside without looking at me. He threw the car into drive and peeled off, leaving the smell of burning rubber in the air.
    I watched him go and burst into tears, feeling as hateful as everyone who’d ever judged me for the color of my skin.
    ***
    I went home and typed up a resignation letter, then marched back to the coffee shop and into Amber’s office. Some of my bravado faltered when Amber smiled at me, but I held out the piece of paper. “Sorry for ditching my shift.”
    “What’s this?” Amber asked as she scanned the page.
    I waited while she read my resignation notice.
    “I won’t pretend I’m not disappointed,” Amber said when she’d finished reading. “But I won’t pretend I’m surprised either.” She leaned back in the chair, her head at an angle, watching me. “You want to talk about it?”
    I bit my lip and shook my